Beneath the clear surface reflecting it slide Tremulous with soft influence; extending its tide Round sea-birds and wrecks, paved with heaven's azure smile, The wide world of waters is vibrating. Where Is the ship? On the verge of the wave where it lay With a sea-snake. The foam and the smoke of the battle Of solid bones crushed by the infinite stress Of the snake's adamantine voluminousness; And the hum of the hot blood that spouts and rains Swollen with rage, strength, and effort; the whirl and the splash As of some hideous engine whose brazen teeth smash The thin winds and soft waves into thunder! the screams With her right she sustains her fair infant. Death, Fear, Which trembles and burns with the fervour of dread LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY. THE fountains mingle with the river, See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the moonbeams kiss the sea ;- THE CLOUD. I. I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, I bear light shades for the leaves when laid From my wings are shaken the dews that waken When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. II. I sift the snow on the mountains below, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, Over, earth and ocean with gentle motion, Lured by the love of the genii that move Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, III. The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, When the morning star shines dead. As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, From the depth of heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest, IV. That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, V. I bind the sun's throne with the burning zone, Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, VI. I am the daughter of earth and water, I And the nursling of the sky: pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain, when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again. |